


Swap My Heart For Yours

by TheUltimateUndesirable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Bisexual Ron Weasley, Broom Maker Harry Potter, Broom Model, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Career Change, Confused Harry, Dating, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hufflepuff Neville Longbottom, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, Light Angst, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Harry Potter, Post-First War with Voldemort, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophecy, Ravenclaw Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Romantic Fluff, Seer Luna Lovegood, Sexual Confusion, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Unspeakables (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable
Summary: Does Harry just have bad luck, and a horrible habit of getting himself into trouble? Or has his decisions, and life just simply been a true prophecy of fate long foretold?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 46
Kudos: 45





	1. The Book

**Author's Note:**

> Yes another WIP. I'm naughty with poor self restraint and discipline. However I had to get this idea out of my head already or it was going to eat me alive. I've always wanted to do one like this! I'm not going to spoil things, but I'm excited for the AU world! I tried not to tag to much. Pretty sure I failed. Might add some tags later especially when we get to smut which no idea when that will be. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to my wonderful and most amazing alpha SonnenFlower for working out the extensive amount of details that have went into this! Encouraging and helping through the whole thing!
> 
> Inspired loosely by The Devil's White Knight on an orphan account here. An amazing drarry AU I recommend.

“Why does the house have to be fucking perfect?” Ron shouted, his auror robes billowing as he threw arms up in the air. “It’s just us!”

“I’m sorry if I don’t want to live like a slob!” Hermione shouted back dramatically.

The redhead groaned. “Well if you would just let us get a bloody house elf it wouldn’t be a problem!” Ron countered. “It’s not like we wouldn’t pay them, or spoil them out the arse! We can build it a fucking cottage next door if you want!”

“Honestly Ronald! How many times do we have to go over this!” Hermione said exasperatedly considering they had had this conversation numerous times, in his presence alone Harry wasn’t sure he faulted her tone. “We aren’t getting a house elf, and you’re going to fucking pick up around the house like you actually contribute here! I’m not some housewife meant to constantly clean up after you!” 

“It’s three tea cups, one plate, and some clothes Mione! Clothes!” the redhead said gesturing around their mostly clean living room. “You know. Things normal people have laying around the house sometimes! Especially when both its occupants work full time jobs!”

Harry had to agree with Ron on that one though. To him the room looked pretty clean anyways, but that could be because he was a single bloke living alone without high standards or care. Sure there were a few spots that could use some tidying up, however both his friends did work long full time jobs. If they ever wanted kids one would probably have to end up cutting back or quitting. He put his money on Ron as he couldn’t see Hermione ever giving up her career. 

“Mione, I'm tired. TIRED! We had a long day in the field!” he listened to his best mate say more desperately as if he just wished the witch would just leave him alone. Harry wasn’t sure what she had said while he tried to ignore them. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa where he and Ron had been enjoying a cuppa before she had gotten home. 

“And I had a long day at work doing mind boggling research. You don’t hear me bitching about it!” she yelled, apparently not giving up her stance.

Ron’s lips pressed tightly together, and his face grew red causing Harry to wince back a little. It looked like he was going to explode despite years of trying to tame his temper. Then to his surprise the redhead simply waved her off with a loud growling huff. Turning away from her probably finally considering the argument pointless. Most of the time it was futile to argue with his wife.

“Ronald Billius Weasley we aren’t done here!” Hermione insisted as Ron disappeared through the door frame leading to the kitchen. 

“Sorry mum!” he shouted from the other room causing the bushy haired witch to stop her foot down with a frustrated noise before following him. 

Harry let his head fall back on the back of the sofa with a heavy sigh when she also disappeared from view. Twelve years later, and their bickering never ceased. If anything it had only gotten worse with time. Especially after Hermione had finished training and became a full time Unspeakable a few years ago. 

Now it seemed almost constant, and he wasn’t even in the relationship. Anytime he was around them both they seemed to be arguing or hostile to each other for some reason or the other. He didn’t even try to keep track of why anymore.

Really Harry didn’t understand why they even stayed together at all if they were going to fight so much. It had to be extra tiring, and the bags under Ron’s eyes usually proved so. Not that he would ask or tell either of them that, although he did debate it on occasion when they were both particularly distressed between work and each other . 

He didn’t want to see his friends unhappy, but much like him and Ginny though they needed to figure it out themselves. Hopefully they would one day anyways unless somehow things miraculous changed. The shouts from the other room made him doubtful of that possibility though. 

At least Ginny had been out on the road as a professional quidditch player, and his lack of interest in constantly being in the public eye helped prevent a lot of arguing. She did her thing, and he did his until finally that little flame that had existed between them went out. He wasn’t going to stop her from achieving her dreams, and frankly she got annoyed with his lack of want. There just wasn’t as much compatibility between them as he had thought, and he realized he had clung to her out of security and safety. For both of them originally. 

Thankfully Ron had appeared more relieved than mad that they broke it off. He assumed because it had made things weird for him with his best mate dating his little sister, and all. It probably helped that neither he nor Ginny were heartbroken over the decision. Ginny had been more frustrated and annoyed, while he just accepted it with a shrug. Perhaps he should have felt more, but years of growing distant it hadn’t been there.

Harry rubbed his forehead as he heard something smash in the other room. Who had done the smashing he wouldn’t even gamble on. Hermione lost her temper just as much as Ron anymore. He half debated throwing up a silencing spell, but decided against it just in case things sounded like they were going too far. That didn’t happen very often however Ron still won out on the anger issues if he let it out. 

Vaguely Harry wondered if he could ever end up with a witch long term after all his experiences. Ginny. Hannah. Daphne. None had worked out for one reason or another. High maintenance in their own way, needing attention for what felt like all the bloody time. Then watching Ron deal with Hermione….. 

Sure there were plenty of other straight couples that were happy like Neville and Pansy or Fred and Luna. Maybe he was just attracted to the wrong type, and Ron and Hermione were a toxic combination from the beginning to stubborn to call it quits. 

Sometimes it all made him consider coming out as bisexual one day. Perhaps trying to seriously date a bloke instead of just shagging them occasionally was what he needed in life. For some reason something always stopped him though. In the end he just decided to no longer pursue serious relationships, and frankly lost interest in them. He had Ron, Hermione, and friends that made him feel content enough to enjoy some alone time, and peace the way he wanted at Grimmauld Place. 

Suddenly things went quiet, and Harry perked his head up in a way that made him feel like a bloody niffler hearing gold. Quiet meant his friends had finally reached the desired apology stage, probably compromising on things they wouldn’t follow through with in the long run. However the quiet also allowed him to hear the unfamiliar hum of magic in the air. 

The sound caused the hair on his arms to stand up. It was a low noise in the distance, and as he was able to focus on it through the silence he felt the light pull on his body that reminded him of when he had felt a horcrux nearby. Yet somehow…….this pull also managed to feel different. 

Harry’s eyes scanned the room looking for anything odd, and in one sweep they honed in on the wall to the right of the front door. Only a tall thin stand stood there with two pictures on top consisting of Hermione’s parents and Crookshanks, along with a bowl the witch kept her muggle keys and cards in. Nothing out of the normal.

Of course the one thing that kept flashing through his mind was Voldemort. There was no possible way it had anything to do with him, and he knew that. Still he found his breathing increasing slightly as he slowly made his way across the room, replaying the psychos death in his head over and over again so he wouldn’t have a panic attack in his friends sitting room.

He reasoned with himself that this pull of magic felt more connecting to him than the horcruxes ever had. Hell part of them had lived inside him, and he hadn’t felt anything as deep as this even when he had touched them. This magic felt….rooted into his very bones. 

Coming face to face with the wall finally Harry narrowed his eyes. It was just as barren and plain as it had appeared from across the room. A wall wasn’t randomly going to start emitting magic out of nowhere. Especially magic that felt like a cord was connected to his spine pulling him towards it.

Rubbing his stomach where it felt like something was attached to him he continued to stare at the empty looking wall. He followed the feeling with his fingers, feeling nothing in the air, to the point on the wall it disappeared into. Running his hand over it firmly he frowned when it felt completely normal besides the odd spot the magic pull seemed to come from. 

Then Harry’s eyes widened, and his breathing grew shallow as the section of the wall he had been touching started to shift. He should have jumped, and raised his wand. For some reason though he found himself unblinking and transfixed while the piece of wall disappeared until it revealed a square compartment maybe only two feet by two feet. There were many items inside, none of which he had ever seen before. 

Forcing himself to finally blink he forced himself to tear his gaze away and see if Hermione or Ron had come back yet. Noticing they hadn’t he knew subconsciously he should walk away and go join them. He wanted to, but as he went to turn around it felt like the cord of magic was plucked. The feeling fully regained his attention with a pleasing hum of approval when he halted and fully faced it again. 

There was something strange about it as he tilted his head looking and studied the contents of the compartment. His eyes flickered over what appeared to be a pocket watch, Hermione’s Unspeakable robes, some notebooks, quills, and a few books. Once he made eye contact with the largest book a glow appeared around it, the light dragging his hand forward.

He was fully aware he shouldn’t touch her things, but surely it wasn’t anything bad if Hermione had it in her house. She would never allow something dark past her doorstep, and she knew how to check for all forms of magic. So despite his better judgement, curiosity and the call of the magic reaching out, he found himself picking the book up. 

Upon touching it, it caused his fingers to tingle in a pleasant way. Holding it in one hand he gently smoothed the other down the slate grey worn cover. It was a hardback with ruins he didn’t know engraved into it. He stretched his fingers out wide over it trying to feel all of the dents that seemed to pool the most magical feel at once. 

The old book was incredibly thick. He wondered if perhaps it held some study on ancient ruins. Hermione had always enjoyed that area of research after all.

Opening it carefully he flipped through the pages slowly with one hand. Loads of ruins were scattered throughout it along with more words than he cared to read. It almost appeared to be a textbook, except he noticed the occasional date that reminded him of journal entries. 

He frowned. Confused by it’s magical feel. Even Tom Riddle’s diary which was full of memories, entries, and part of a soul hadn’t felt like this. He had also never been drawn to a bloody textbook either. 

Landing on the front page finally he was surprised to find it different than the rest. There hadn't been a single page that wasn’t lined to the brim with words or drawings of ruins. This one though wasn’t crammed full with information. The edges had ruins drawn all around it, as on the others they seemed more sporadic. Then there was only what seemed to be a title of some form, and a small snippet of words. 

_ The time will come that the world will change.  _

_ Better it will be despite some things the same.  _

_ What all is different is the fate meant to be.  _

_ Trust a true seer, and have the faith to believe. _

_ No matter the path or what’s been done, _

_ Only one truth exists, only one song is sung.  _

_ Despite its destiny, the song of the sun will still be the daughter of choice.  _

_ Give birth to the true fortune though our son, and finally let the world rejoice.  _

Harry’s eyebrows raised. He couldn’t tell if it was a poem or a riddle. It sounded like both, and like something that Luna would be able to decipher. Especially since it consisted of a seer reference, and potentially sounded like a seer’s words. Definitely something Hermione probably wouldn’t understand or believe. 

Running his fingers over the script line by line he tried thinking of what it could mean. Again the magic hummed happily under his constant touch. What kind of book would Hermione be reading that sounded so unusual? Sure she was pretty brilliant with riddles, but it just sounded far too much like a seer book of some form to hold her interest.

“The time will come that the world will change….” Harry said thinking aloud as he read the words again. “Only one truth exists, only one song is sung...” 

Scanning the ruins along the edges once more he finally gave up on the riddle, and instead studied the words across the top. They were spaced out and centered like a title, but the words were Latin. Something he definitely wasn’t fluent in, but the book appeared old enough that it may have still been spoken at the time of its creation. Then again it was only the one line.

“ _ Optas fortuna tuum atque certas temporis filiaque felicitas electionis filia erit _ ?” he said furrowing his brows deeply hoping any word sounded familiar.

It left him more confused than the little poem of words. Fortuna was the only one he knew. Fortune. Fortune was mentioned below. Repeating it again he tried to decide if felicitas had anything to do with luck, but as he did the magic beat beneath his fingers like a heartbeat. 

Then out of nowhere he watched with a dropped jaw as his hand started to sink into the page itself. It was as if the magic was pulling him in, despite his attempt to yank it back. The unfamiliar magic began running up his arm, and what felt like through his very blood consuming him. 

It caused his heart to start racing wildly in a panic. He tried to throw the book out of his hands, but his one arm was continuing to sink away inside it. Grabbing it again with his other when it didn’t come off he tried to pull it off his quickly disappearing forearm.

“Hermione!” he shouted for help. The witch might very well kill him for snooping, but it beat a bloody book eating him alive. 

“Hermione!” he called again looking back over his shoulder. Around him the room started to shrink, and the door started to fade out. It was the only time he would ever wish the situation was just a horrible panic attack or one of his nightmares. 

“Bloody hell Hermione get in here!” he yelled desperately continuing to try and push the book off of him with his other hand. It was nearly up to his shoulder causing his heart to start thumping in his ears.

A larger glow of light appeared, and being so close to his face it caused his glasses to blur. His vision turned foggy for half a second before everything went completely white. Then it felt like his heart exploded like a bombarda from the magic beating around his entire body all at once. 

The strength of the pulse had to have taken him off his feet because it started to feel like he was falling backwards. He wished desperately he could see as he started to lose his grip on the book so he could catch himself. Then he couldn’t register any feelings at all besides the echoing sound of the book snapping shut somewhere off in the distance. 


	2. Mid-Life Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually quite hard with trying to capture Harry's confusion and emotions. Then again everyone's first day in a AU is going to be trippy and hard to grasp yes? Yes.

Harry reached out what felt like wildly for something, anything, to grab onto. When one of his hands landed on a solid edge he thanked Merlin about a dozen times as he held on for dear life. He reached out cautiously trying to grab it with the other hand as well. While he didn’t feel his body weight, only the strength of his arms, at least he no longer felt like he was falling.

Trying to steady him from swaying in the air, relief washed through him as he registered stability under his feet once again. It was enough for him to gather his balance as he tried to blink away the white light to see what was happening. Finally after a few seconds of rapidly opening, and closing his eyes the view around him turned foggy before slowly dispersing to a clearer vision. 

Taking deep breaths Harry continued to try, and clear his eyes completely. What appeared to be a tan and black marble countertop came into focus. He swiveled his head around quickly, tensing upon realizing he was no longer in the dark light of Ron and Hermione’s cottage. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut again, gripping at the edge of the countertop tightly until he felt his fingers going numb, then he let go with his hands shaking. The pain did nothing to wake him up. It never did, but it was worth a try. 

Accepting the failed attempt he went to pull his wand from his sleeve, only to find he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. Both hands flew to his naked chest to see if they were wrong, and seeing they weren’t he panicked. Patting the trousers he wore down he still didn’t find it.

Glancing around at arm level he felt mild comfort seeing it laying on the far end of the counter. Snatching it up quickly he cast a wordless  _ homo revelio _ . When it told him no one was in the surrounding area his shoulders relaxed, granted only slightly. 

Going into auror mode he slowly took note of the place he was, branding it to memory. There was a large sliding glass door to his left that appeared to open into a huge backyard. Clearly he was in the countryside considering the outside environment. Trees were sprinkled throughout the area here and there with the only other building being a large older looking shed. 

Inside, what was apparently a cottage, was quite different though. It felt new, and bright. Homely. Pictures decorated the crème colored walls. Dark maroon sofas, and beige chairs brought out the warmth of the floor. There was even a matching coffee table that seemed to be made of the same wood that made up the floor. 

The kitchen he was nearly standing in was of equal warmth. Crème with maroon accents, and beige cabinets all matching the counter. All in all he got the familiar feeling of Gryffindor tower.

It was pretty clean also from what he could see. There were a few things sitting out like food was about to be prepared, along with some papers and magazines in the sitting area. What looked like a glass or two of scotch on the far side table. 

Harry frowned. The spell told him no one was home yet food was sitting out? He guessed they could be somewhere out in the yard, but he wasn’t going to go venturing outside just yet. Checking the other rooms in the cottage was the first step in a good sweep so he was at least familiar with where he had appeared. Then he could work his way outside, and try to get out of the heavy wards he could feel above him. 

Slowly with his wand held tightly in his hand, he moved around the counter. Either his years and years of sneaking around both at school and on jobs were paying off or he was lucky to have a solid floor that didn’t squeak. Honestly he hoped it was the former, because the latter would also prevent him from hearing more movement from someone else's steps. 

Making sure to breathe slowly and deeply he kept his eyes wide observing everything in his peripheral view. Wand arm steady, even as a glimpse of red hair caught his attention. He turned his head only at enough of an angle to get the full picture, and when he did his head tilted more. 

There was suddenly more puzzle than worry in that moment. His mum and dad stood there smiling. Happy. Not uncommon in his episodes, but the uncommon part were the children. What looked like a young him, maybe nine, stood in front of his dad while his mum held a little girl who appeared to be a toddler or a little older. His eyebrows actually started to hurt from how pinched they were. 

Then he was startled out of the confusion, jumping away from the dark red brick fireplace, by the eruption of green flames. Granted being taken off guard was his own fault for deciding to get closer just to see a bloody picture. With an instinctive hand though his wand was pointed at the ready before they could even disappear. 

Harry's eyes widened. He held his wand up firmer, and even higher as someone walked through. His breathing quickened at an alarming rate seeing familiar wavy black hair step out before him. 

Sirius Black looked as taken off guard as he was by his presence. 

“Uh….Harry?” his godfather said, sounding questioning looking from his eyes to the tip of his wand.

When the man took a step forward he automatically took a step back unsure of what stood before him. The hum of magic through his arm was soothing at least. Knowing it held just as much of a strong connection as always, and he could count on his magic. It was officially one of the only times he felt truly thankful for his heightened magical abilities. 

Sirius looked at him seeming genuinely confused. “You okay?” he asked before poking his head around as if he expected an intruder, appearing not at all shocked by his presence. 

Harry’s mouth twitched, and his eyes darted to the sides. Back and forth between what appeared to be his godfather, and the rest of the room again looking around for he didn't even know what. An explanation mostly.

Maybe he was finally having that midlife crisis so many talked about. He was coming up on thirty after all. There was his PTSD, but he hadn’t experienced such an intense episode in over a year. Usually they were built around dreams turned nightmares of vica versa. Fear, and memories of the past muddled together….

He shook his head enough trying to clear his mind, and focus on the moment. It gained him another unusual look from Sirius. This time though he didn't talk or move. That was until they weren't alone anymore. 

As if seeing Sirius standing, talking, in front of him appearing as physical and alive as ever wasn't disbelieving enough, Harry was in absolute shock when one Remus walked through the sliding glass door. Tall as he remembered, but without the war-stricken tired look he had always worn. This man was bright, and cheerful, although he did still wear some of the familiar scars that he knew of upon his revealed forearms. Even being much older than when he last saw him Remus looked healthier and happier than he had ever seen him. 

Harry was completely unable to stop himself from moving even further back to the far wall, his wand arm weakening. Feeling completely frozen, he watched as Remus smoothed up behind Sirius far far too closely. He hardly managed to swallow thickly as his old professor wrapped his arms around his godfather's midsection. Of all the dreams or nightmares in the last twelve years not once had it been like this. Never had it been Remus R.J Lupin pulling Sirius Black close against him from behind in a tight hug that was clearly intimate. 

Apparently Remus hadn’t noticed him having moved so far back as he continued the personal embrace. Nuzzling his nose up under Sirius's shoulder length black hair to be able to bury his face in the man's neck. When he witnessed Remus licking his way out from under the locks after a second Harry's eyes widened further. The man was licking his way upwards until he reached his godfather's cheek, where he proceeded to place a hard kiss on it. 

“Moonyyyyy, stop it!” Sirius laughed, looking away from him with red cheeks as he tried to pull his upper body away from Remus. 

It didn't sound like actual embarrassment, and even if it was the words didn’t deter the other man even as his godfather squirmed in his hold. He just tightened his hug around Sirius's belly, rocking him back and forth with the motion of his attempting to escape. Continually planting kisses on his cheek with more intensity each time causing more laughs from Sirius. 

Harry had absolutely no clue what was happening at all now. How did he go from Ron and Hermione’s dark neglected cottage to some bright one? One where his long dead godfather, and old professor were? Where they were hugging, snogging, and laughing like bloody boyfriends? 

“Moony! Stop it! Stop it! Seriously!” Sirius said louder, but the laughter he was emitting clearly didn’t help him come across as actually serious. Finally Sirius had to elbow Remus in the chest to get him off. 

“Oi what was that for?” Remus said, seeming taken aback. He let go of Sirius in favor of rubbing his own body. Then Sirius nodded towards him letting him know he was still being physically seen versus just observing a scene like he sometimes did. His pensive like experiences were usually intense, but this was just downright weird. 

Remus finally noticed him and his old professor straightened up a little with a light blush appearing on his face. “Uh sorry about that…” Remus apologized. He straightened up a little with a light blush appearing on his cheek bones and neck. Sirius chuckled beside him.

“A bit early aren’t you?” Sirius asked, starting to sound a bit more comfortable, probably because in the shock his wand had lowered. “Still another hour isn't it?” he asked.

Harry’s eyes were drawn from his godfather's happy grey eyes to Remus pulling out a shiny gold pocket watch to check the time. Something his Remus definitely never would have been able to afford. 

“Alright there Bambi?” he asked, drawing his attention up from where he had been staring at the man’s watch. 

For a second his eyes flickered between them both. Whatever this was he didn’t want to show any weakness. It had him nodding his head slowly, even though he very much wasn’t. Especially after being called Bambi. Why the fuck were they calling him Bambi? 

“You don't look it,” Remus said, eyeing him curiously. 

“Well your mum and dad should be here anytime,” Sirius started moving past Remus to head towards the kitchen. “They just popped….” 

“My mum and dad?” Harry breathed softly interrupting his godfather.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Overall he felt a little numb. Not the painful numb, but more like the frostbite numb. It was impossible to relax despite everyone's insistence. He wasn’t sure his eyes returned from their widened state all evening. The whole thing was uncomfortable, like he was somewhere he didn’t belong. 

How else was he supposed to feel randomly appearing somewhere incredibly strange? Somewhere that he still wasn’t waking up from despite his pinches and mental will. His mind wanted to try, and think more about that bloody book. What it looked like, and how things had happened. With all the overwhelming feeling he just wasn’t able to focus on it as much as he had tried. Finally he had given up. 

Seeing his long dead godfather and Remus had sent him into that frozen state, but they had somehow managed to convince him to sit down on the sofa. It hadn’t looked abnormal, and frankly his knees had started feeling a little weak so he obliged. Both of them seemed to forget his awkward state after he was situated, and instead started moving around the place like busy bees. Cooking, cleaning more, setting out a few things like a muggle stereo, and charming decorations along the walls.

Then there was that horrible moment his mum and dad had popped through the floo, just as Sirius had said they would. Having forgotten in his trance of watching the two men, and a little bit scared of what might be coming through, he had sprang up like a coil. Moving behind the sofa like he was on the battle ground. 

The moment they had merely spoken to him with casual greeting and love, he had gotten sick on the spot. He hadn’t had a clue to where the loo was resulting in all kinds of worry from everyone as he puked on the floor. Touching him in what appeared to be an attempt at aid had caused him to fall backwards.

After that he had started feeling dizzy, especially as they continued to try and convince him to up. To help him move. Their physical hands on the bare skin of his shoulders, arms, and back were like fire to a degree that it actually hurt.

Once back on the sofa though they seemed content to leave him be as they cooked and decorated. Occasionally shooting him words he didn’t actually hear, but their eyes told him to nod in agreement. They had tried to offer him water, by bringing a glass to him. That caused an instant actual vocal no to finally leave his mouth. He wouldn’t trust anything that wasn’t his own  _ aguamenti _ . 

All evening he continued to hardly speak. Anything past three words, and his voice faded out despite any attempt to keep it going. It turned out they were having some form of a party for someone’s birthday. Someone who made him even dizzier, and he might have actually swayed a little upon her arrival.

Finding out he had a little sister, the girl no doubt in the picture he had checked out, turning twenty? it had been hard to watch her appear, and wrap his head around her existence as she moved. More around the mere possibility of having a sibling versus it playing out in front of him. 

She was beautiful. Nearly the spitting image of his mum with, exactly upon side by side comparison, had his dad’s height. Much like he did. Along with the set of shoulders, and jaw. At a certain point he had started playing with his own unruly locks watching her straight red hair swing with the music, which he only found out when someone he didn’t know had asked if he was trying to pull it out finally. Maybe he had been. 

While they gave up getting more than those few out of him as time passed, which was surely hours, he still listened to conversation around him. Random information, and clues he tried to store away about how things were in this….whatever it was. However discovering he and this supposed sister had a little brother not even seventeen still residing at Hogwarts unable to attend? Despite numbness he felt all the color drain from his face because he became more light headed than dizzy. A way that made him sick to the stomach again, but at least he hadn’t puked. 

After that nothing else came as much of a shock. It just became more of….whatever this was. Normal definitely didn’t feel like the right word  Everyone joked, laughed, and had a good time while he probably appeared to be sulking. He was unable to change his expression though. 

**XXXXXXX**

“Okay love if you need anything just send Milly to get us,” his mum said, her green eyes searching him over. It had taken her and his dad a fair bit of coaxing, along with basically a push from Sirius, to get him follow them through the floo.

All his energy was feeling drained by that point, and it didn’t seem like he was leaving any other way anytime soon. They had all insisted him going home to rest, and if he had a place that was supposedly his own it sounded like a safer option than lingering amongst people he knew to be dead. Yet were somehow walking around cheerfully. 

“Night sport,” his dad said, hugging him, and taking him into his arms without warning which caused him to tense. “Try and feel better?” he said with both a concerned voice and face letting go. Harry nodded mutely, and then his dad shouted causing him to flinch. 

“Milly!” he called out loudly. 

A crack sounded beside them, not even able to startle him, and a small house elf in a blue dress appeared. “Master Potter calls Milly?” it asked. 

“Make sure Harry is comfortable and get everything he needs,” his dad said pointedly looking down at her.

“Of course Master Potter. Young Master is taken care of always,” the elf bowed, and instantly a visual of a free Dobby came to mind. 

It seemed that was all his parents needed to finally feel content enough to leave his cottage. As soon as they disappeared he exhaled what had to be the biggest breath he had ever held. Alone and time to think was what he needed. 

“What does young Master Potter need?” the elf asked, and Harry turned to it having forgotten it was there. He just looked at her not sure what to say. Her large bat-like ears were a bit more perky than what he was used to seeing, and she stared back at him in waiting. What he needed was to wake up.

“If young Master doesn’t tell Milly what he wants she will go off the old Master Potter’s wants,” she said with a tsk to her high squeaky voice. Harry opened and closed his mouth almost feeling like he knew what to say, and it caused the little elf to huff at him disapprovingly at the lack of response. 

“Young Master takes bath. Always bath,” she started shooed him with both her small hands until he was in a fairly large loo. “Milly brings the best calming potions. Young Master is not sick like Master Potter thinks…” she said firmly. 

Standing there he debated if he was actually going to strip or not. When the elf came back she seemed even more annoyed he had done nothing. A snap of her fingers, and the iron tub started filling, steam rising and the scent of lavender filling the air from whatever potions she magically directed to pour into the water. 

The little thing then chastised him quite harshly in a way that caused him to both raise his eyebrows at such a behavior from a house elf, and to rid himself of the trousers and pants he had on the second she left. Hesitantly he laid down his wand on the floor next to the tub. The urge to keep in his hand dwindled some, but it felt like a relief to be free of the constant hum of magic. Briefly he wondered if the heavy flow through his arm all evening had aided in his numb feeling. 

Forcing himself into the tub Harry tried to close his eyes, entertaining the idea of everything he had seen and heard. Is that how things could have been if Voldermort hadn’t killed his parents? Would his parents had had more children? Would Sirius and Remus have loved each other romantically? They had seemed incredibly close those two short years he had gotten to see them together, but he also had been away at school a good portion of the time.

After much comparison to what he knew and to what he saw, along with about three dozen what if’s later, cold water had him getting out and grabbing the first towel he saw. Drying off and tying it around his waist securely. Almost protectively. 

Among checking himself over he noted how almost everything about him was the same physical which was comforting. Everything except his scars that is. His chest was healed of the locket scorching according to the mirror along with his hand. Even his famous lighting cursed scar wasn’t there. All traces of his life’s journey through hell were gone. 

He shrugged it off as a dream, not allowing himself to dwell on it, and like always he picked up his clothes. Checking the other two doors he had seen, his caution dropped with every passing minute. Especially once in the room that, aside from the green and random Slytherin house crest, felt the most familiar out of everything. It felt like home and without much thinking he opened drawers until he found pants that fit him like all others. 

“Now Master goes to bed,” Milly said, appearing seconds after he was dressed with another crack, taking his discarded towel and trousers off the bed. “Master will have a good breakfast waiting to make him feel better.” 

“But you said I’m not sick,” he found himself answering, finding his solid voice for the first time in hours. Out of everyone she seemed easier to talk to. The elf shook her head disapprovingly once again at him like he wasn't quite getting something. 

“No but the master will feel better with good food. Lots to learn,” she said seriously. “Need good food for a long day.” 

Harry frowned at the elf’s continued odd behavior. Then again aside from a cranky old Kreacher many years ago he had never had a house elf in his constant presence. Let alone one bossing him around.

Taking off his glasses he sat them on the nightstand beside the green bed. Climbing in slowly as if to make sure it was real. Only then did the elf disappear. 

It was incredibly soft, the duvet thick and warm. Much more relaxing than the bath had been considering his shoulders gave away from holding all the tension. Maybe if he went to sleep he would finally just wake up from this strange experience. He felt exhausted, and to his surprise it didn’t take long for him to drift off into the familiar territory of recurring nightmares. 


	3. Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this fic is officially the focus on my NaNo month! For once I have....well....most of an outline. I can promise this fic won't be finished though. It has become a monster. Proven as much by how lengthy this chapter got. I did debate splitting it into two, but with it being overall one scene I kept it as one.
> 
> It is a big chapter in regards to plot so hopefully it makes sense.....never done anything like this before! Don't eat me alive please.....

Blinking his eyes open tiredly Harry stretched, rolling over as he yawned. His body was tired, and even his head still felt tired like he had just spent two days in the field sleeping in the grass. He wondered if he could go back to sleep considering it felt like he was on a cloud in comparison, his body sinking into it exhaustingly. However his bladder protested the desire to snuggle back into the pillow.

Yawning again in defeat he threw his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes, and gathering his glasses from the bedside table like always. Standing he ruffled his hair, trying to shake the sleep from himself. It felt like he had had a dream, but the idea was distant. He shrugged it off happily. No dreams or nightmares were better in his opinion. A decade of nightmare terrors he took every night he went without with thankfulness. 

“Master’s head better? Loo is on left in case,” a squeaky voice said, causing his eyes to pop open. They widened seeing a little house elf in front of him that he had almost walked into. She wore a small pale green dress, with her perky little bat ears standing taller than any he knew.

“Who are….” Harry started with a frown, and then his face quickly morphed from one of confusion to something more akin to horror. Especially as his peripheral vision took in unfamiliar surroundings. Glancing around he wanted to fall backwards onto the bed again. 

Harry tried taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. He wasn’t still there, and it wasn’t real. He didn’t think he had even dreamed of such a place, and for once he wished he could remember. A dream was a dream, and when he finally woke up at least he was able to tell the difference. There felt no difference here though causing his skin to prickle. 

“Stubborn all places I see,” the little elf said, shaking her head sadly. “Master sleeps late. Breakfast is waiting. Long day. Must learn.”

“Learn? Master? What?” he repeated breathing a little harder. 

The elf put her hands on her tiny hips. “Food,” she said pointing out the bedroom door. “Master must eat, and learn.” 

“What the bloody hell am I learning?” Harry asked in exasperation. The house elf looked incredibly frustrated for a second before pulling a sock out of her little white apron pocket. To his shock the elf started smacking his knee with it.

“Oi what kind of house elf are you?” he asked, moving away from her. It wasn’t like it hurt even the littlest bit, but it was just flat out weird and abnormal. 

“Milly is Milly! Milly makes sure Master Potter is well! Master Potter doesn't eat, or listen!” she said, stopping her swatting and addressing him sternly with unusually hard eyes that caused him to lean back away from her a little more. “Milly goes to get Master Potter’s father if Master doesn’t help take care of himself.”

An image of his father and mother, Sirius, and Remus all came flooding into his mind making him dizzy. The prospect of seeing them felt very much physically and real was not appealing at all. He suddenly very vividly remembered puking seeing his parents, making him all the more worried this was indeed real now. 

“Alright alright,” he conceded, raising his hands in surrender, and walking out of the room behind her. The little elf was unlike any other he had ever met he had to admit. He didn’t know if it freaked him out or if he enjoyed the feisty no nonsense attitude.

Milly led him through a hallway, a large sitting room, and then into a dining room with adjoining kitchen. He stared at the dining table in disbelief. It was quite large for what felt like a small cottage, seating easily six to eight people. Then the elf had at least half of it full of a wide variety of food. Everything from sausages and bacon, to muffins, eggs, and fruit. Not counting the various drinks, sweets, and potions she had out 

“Umm...a bit much don’t you think?” he asked the elf. 

“I can not know what the Master wishes when he has yet to tell me. Milly provides all. Potions and teas to help calm. Need calms still I think,” she said nodding her head, seeming to agree with herself before picking up a vial and handing him one. Cautiously taking it from her it appeared to be a simple calming draught when held up to the light. 

Glancing down he was unsettled to the elf glaring at him. It had him throwing caution to the wind and titling the potion down his throat not wanting to deal with another one of her little weird fits again. He felt his muscles instantly relax, and himself perk up a little. When he did he noticed the house elf smiling. 

“Now. Master will eat and quit being stubborn for Milly. Most unexpected for the change, but Milly will get all she needs to teach Master his ways,” she clasped her hands together happily. 

Then what had to be an owl was suddenly tapping on the kitchen window to his right. Looking at the black eagle owl he sat down slowly processing everything while Milly snapped her fingers. To his surprise the bird soared right in through the now open window, and over to a perch in the far left corner of the dining room. 

Seeming to belong there it hooed loudly offering it’s leg out as the elf went to get it. She came back with a small bit of parchment that she handed to him. Opening the lazily folded letter he raised his eyebrows at its contents. 

_She was a right bitch, and lucky I didn’t hex her. Now. Fortuna. Manor afterwards. I found a new box of my dad’s stash. I need to break some shit._

_Draco_

Harry studied the letter with more of a frown. Why on earth would Draco Malfoy be thinking they would meet up? Shaking his head he threw it to the table. He didn’t have time for Malfoy, his mind games, or any of the problems that came along with that. They hadn’t come across each other more than in passing in probably two years. 

“Master better answer young Master Malfoy….” Milly said, dragging it out warningly. . 

“I am not answering Malfoy,” Harry said firmly, feeling annoyed suddenly for being even more confused. Like his parents weren’t enough to try and figure out. Snatching up a muffin he took a bite, sighing feeling the nutrients and familiar taste of his favorite blueberry ones. 

“Master wishes things to go smoothly, he will answer,” the elf tried again more calmly than any of the previous interactions as if sensing the growing emotions. “Young Master Malfoy isn’t one…” 

Swallowing his mouthful he tried not to snap at her. “Seriously just….just leave me alone for a while okay?” he said, keeping himself calm. He figured that was mostly the potion’s doing.

“Master will be sorry,” Milly said sadly, shaking her head before disappearing with a pop. 

Harry let his head fall onto his wrist, unwilling to give up his food. Now that he had had some he realized how starved he was. Malfoy was the least of his problems. He needed to find Hermione. Out of everyone she would most likely be able to figure out what was going on with him and this mess. Explain to him why things appeared to be as they were. Maybe his PTSD had taken on some weird turn for having gone so long without an episode. 

Scratching his forehead with one hand he tried to just focus on eating for now. It was full of taste and was fulfilling which made him feel a lot better all in all. At least his body wasn’t feeling tired, and weak clearing his mind some. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten such a good meal. It tasted almost as good as Molly’s family meals. Maybe even better although he would never dare admit that to anyone. 

He smiled at the thought of her bustling over a breakfast this size. No doubt something she would have done for a special occasion. Although he hardly counted this as special. 

Picking up a cup of tea he drank it slowly, and allowed it to warm himself further with comfort. It seemed like tea could fix nearly anything. If it fixed this, and his head it would prove it beyond reasonable doubt. Hell he might even start his own tea making business. 

That wasn’t going to happen though as his floo flared to life not even ten minutes later. The noise caused him to drop the fork full of eggs in his hand onto the table as he jumped. Why wasn’t his floo locked if this was his bloody cottage? His floo was locked to anyone but Hermione, Ron, and the other Weasleys. As he went to summon his wand his heart gave a jolt of hope and excitement. A jolt that was halted as Draco Malfoy rounded the corner into the dinning room. 

“What the fuck Potter?” Malfoy said, meeting him confidently with only a few feet left between them. “Leaving me sitting in Fortuna looking like a fool? How bloody bad does it look people think I’m being stood up by my own mate?” 

“Stood up? What....fucking…. Malfoy! Get out!” he shouted in confused disbelief at the bloke’s audacity to enter or act like this in his house. They weren’t mates, and he certainly didn’t stand people up. 

Malfoy looked taken aback appearing confused himself. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” he actually asked calmly. 

“You don’t just go hurtling into someone’s floo without warning!” Harry said, gesturing to the fireplace. It didn’t take a genius to know that. Especially when it was someone you didn’t even like. After the trials Malfoy had tried to stay clear of him for the most part. Outside of dating Ginny for a short period of time, but even then they didn’t actually interact. 

“That became a sudden problem when exactly?” Malfoy dragged out with a frown. 

Harry’s face melted into one of realization, and his stomach twisted just enough to make him remember what was going on. If this was a different place, perhaps his relationship with Malfoy was different. He didn’t see how that was possible, but clearly his response was abnormal. 

“Uh….it’s uh….it’s not?” he tried to backpedal a little, thinking of a way to remedy the situation. “Do you….want tea?” he asked awkwardly. As he said it, it felt even more awkward realizing he was still in his pants while Malfoy was dressed for the day in black trousers and a white muggle t-shirt. A sight that once registered almost short circuited his brain. Malfoy, pureblood pride, in muggle wear screamed all kinds of wrong. 

The blond’s confused expression shifted to something more expressionless. A face he truly recognized, and had seen far too many times staring at him from across the Great Hall. One that told him the blond was still unconvinced, and judging him. 

“Sorry?” Harry tried again when he didn’t respond. “It’s just been a...uh a really long night. Yeah,” and he felt like he was starting to sweat a little under Malfoy’s growing glare. It was the truth at least. “Just found out some bad news is all.” 

“Bad news eh?” the Slytheirn actually responded, his expression softening. It allowed Harry to let out a deep breath of relief, seeming to have gotten him to relax. 

“Yeah…just...some adjusting,” he said vaguely. 

“What kind?” Malfoy asked, seeming indifferent to the news. 

Harry paused for what was probably too long before realizing there was no good lie to cover his arse. “I don’t really want to talk about it…” he stated hoping it would be satisfactory. People didn’t always want to talk about bad news after all. Malfoy actually nodded his head seeming to understand, walking backwards a little.

“I see,” he said casually. “ _Incarcerous.”_

It was unexpected, and close enough range that he didn’t even have time to respond wandlessly. His top half being unbalanced caused him to fall to his knees. The position below the Slytherin’s height infuriated him almost as much as the being bound by the bloke. Being an auror it would be automatic jail time for entering his home without permission, let alone tying him up. 

“God damnit Malfoy let me go!” Harry shouted on instinct. 

Malfoy on the other hand seemed unbothered, content to lean against the wall. “No,” the blond said flatly. 

“Merlin help you, Malfoy,” he breathed angrily. “This is my bloody house. You better release me, and get the fuck out!”.

“Who are you?” Malfoy asked. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Harry said defensively. If this was timeline work which briefly crossed his mind while eating, it could mess the whole thing up by saying anything. His gut though told him it wasn’t. Magic couldn’t take you to the future, and it seemed the past had already passed. 

“Milly,” Malfoy called, and Harry’s nostrils flared realizing the stupid git knew enough of his life to know his bloody house elf. 

“The Young Malfoy calls?” Milly asked, popping out of thin air and addressing the blond. 

Malfoy opened his mouth, but Harry interrupted right away. “Don’t you dare answer to him!” he ordered finally truly angry. “Get him out and get these things off me!”

The elf seems quite put out by his order, but still she bowed. “Milly is always allowed to help Master Malfoy,” she said softly. “Master Malfoy won’t be allowed to harm Master Potter, but Milly thinks it is best Master Potter talks to him.” 

Before he could say anything further the elf vanished back out of sight, and he prayed to Merlin himself that he wouldn’t just chuck her out on the street. She already had bloody socks and clothes so she was perfectly capable of deciding what she wanted to do with her bloody life. Hermione be damned. 

For a second the blond just looked at where Milly had been. Clearly as displeased with her response as he was. He didn’t understand how he would ever allow his own house elf, if he had ever had, one to answer to Malfoy freely. 

“Malfoy!” he snapped after a second, and the bloke met his eyes. They were the same grey ones he had stared off against many times.

“Well Milly sure is convinced….” the Slytherin trailed off studying his face over before raking his body. He pushed off the wall, and Harry felt the hair on his neck stand up from being circled like prey. It caused him to growl lowly. “Interesting creatures are elves.” 

“Interesting. Yeah great. Go have a chat with another one, and piss off,” Harry said dismissively. 

Malfoy hummed seeming frustrated himself. “Lucky prick is what you are,” he said, and Harry had a feeling it was from Milly’s promise that the git couldn’t harm him. If he was loose he sure as hell would have a go at his pointy face. 

“Devon and Zach are…..” Malfoy started off. 

Harry furrowed his brows when he didn’t finish. He didn’t know anyone by those names anyways so it hardly mattered. The blond shook his head, and he noticed it was only slightly longer at the top. Again an odd look on the bloke. 

“Magaluf starts in?” Malfoy asked, looking at him apparently expecting a response. 

That was when he clenched his jaw to keep his mouth shut, and attempted a more passive face. He was being questioned. Questions he had no clue at all what the answer was, or what they even meant. 

Malfoy stopped in front of him, and bent down to his level. He had to clench his jaw even tighter in restraint to not snap off at him or just butt him in the head. Even if he knocked him over he highly doubted he would be able to summon his wand in time. It made him feel like a prat for walking somewhere he didn’t know without it. That wasn’t a mistake he had made probably since before the war. 

“It can’t get any easier than this one,” Malfoy said like he was talking to a six year old. “Diggory is….” 

Harry felt his eye twitch. “How dare you,” he seethed unable to stop himself. 

Every memory of Cedric wanted to come rushing forward causing him to breathe heavier and heavier until he thought he might just be able to bust out of the ropes. Cedric was still to this day one of the worst topics. One of the worst triggers he had.

“How dare you mention that to me,” he forced through his teeth, feeling the prickle of tears as he started to shake. If he hadn’t been restrained he might have sent Malfoy to St.Mungos, and then curled in on himself for a good cry. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, and tilted his head almost at a ninety degree angle watching the emotions he knew were now flickering over his face. He just tried to focus on breathing. He tried to remember this wasn’t his world or whatever it was. Things were obviously different, but he couldn’t seem to keep it right in his mind. This was Malfoy....but it wasn’t? Trying to figure it out was giving him a rather large headache paired with his already fast rushing blood. 

“If you were Harry,” the blond started off slowly and cooly. “...you would have said something along the lines of Devon and Zach are lower than flobberworm paste. If you were Harry you would know Magaluf always starts in August. Then if you were actually Harry, you would have practically moaned Diggory is Our Dream.”

Harry blanched, and his chest felt a little lighter at the idea Cedric was alive. Diggory should be associated with death, not a dream. His parents were alive. Sirius and Remus. Did that mean Cedric was too? He had to be. He deserved to be. 

“Who the fuck are you, and where is Harry?” the blond asked firmly, and he blinked himself back into the moment.

“I am Harry,” he protested a little more weakly under emotions, but he knew from Malfoy’s face there was not a chance of convincing him now. Especially as the bloke lowered himself back against the wall and onto the floor in front of him. Crossing his ankles looking at him boringly in wait. 

Harry exhaled heavily grumbling to himself. “Bugger…” 

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The time seemed to tick by unbearably slow. At least he had been allowed to lean against the wall after basically being shoved back to it. Stupid pointy git was a stubborn cocky arse bastard now just like he was the way he knew him. Making himself at home on what was supposed to be his sofa. One long leg draped over the other with the visibly familiar hawthorn wand twisting in his fingers mindlessly. He had taken to watching it, remembering the warm feeling it had given his hand long ago. 

Long ago was also when Malfoy had quit responding to him. After a surplus of further questions he refused to answer the blond took to just watching him like he was a bloody telly. It was annoying, but he didn’t know what else to do about it all. Being interrogated like a criminal did not make him feel much up for chatting anyways. Especially with Malfoy. 

“Are you ready to talk yet?” Malfoy asked randomly, maybe sensing his debating on how to handle the subject. Which of course he still didn’t know how. 

“Depends,’ Harry said tiredly. “What do you want to talk about? About how you’re going to get these bloody things off me?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not,” Malfoy shrugged, sitting up right. “Why don’t you just answer some general questions?”

“General questions?” Harry repeated unimpressed.

“Yes. If you’re Harry surely you at least remember the bare basics of your life. You remember,” the Slytherin said the last word quite mockingly. “...your first name after all.” 

Harry rolled his eyes at the tone. “Fine. Go ahead.” Existing in this place didn’t change where he came from after all. Especially with his parents alive.

The blond appeared to debate him for a moment before pulling a black bag out of his trouser pockets. It caused him to frown. Why did Malfoy carry a bloody bag around with him? What was he getting? Then as his arm disappeared down inside it he thought of Hermione, and how now even after the war she carried that purple bag everywhere for what reason he didn’t know. So why did Malfoy do it?

Then he was withdrawing his arm, producing a small clear vial. He held it out in front of his face as he put the bag down. Holding it between the tips of his fingers as if happy to display it for him.

“I’m sure anyone would be aware of this,” Malfoy said with a smirk, and he wasn’t wrong. Stupid potion he was more than familiar with. An annoying love hate relationship thanks to his job. 

“Really Malfoy?” he asked in his own bored disbelieving tone. “You walk around with bloody truth serum in your bag?” 

For some reason this made the bloke slowly smile wider. “I apparently have my own secrets….Potter.”

Harry shrugged as much as could in the ropes, confident in his ability to overpower the potion. Being an auror he had been given it enough times on testimony to hardly feel the impulse to admit the truth having grown a resistance. Plus he always only spoke the truth anyways. There was never reason to lie. 

“Well get on with it then. I’d enjoy healing this rope burn,” he said. 

“Oi that’s your own fault for whatever fit you were going to throw,” Malfoy said, with something that actually sounded close to empathy. Still Harry clenched his teeth pushing Cedric in the farthest corner of his mind again. 

Malfoy stood, and walked over to him, uncorking the vial as he went. Standing above him again Harry wanted to stand also, but decided it was better not to even try. He’d probably just get pushed back down onto his arse. 

“Open on up,” Malfoy instructed. 

Harry eyed the vial again starting to feel a bit hesitant, but he wanted out of the ropes, and the bloke out of his house. So reluctantly he opened his mouth, and as soon as he did the Slytherin poured the whole damn thing in his mouth. It almost caused him to spit it out in fear of choking. Even after swallowing he had to cough. 

“You arsehole! What the fuck?” he said in between coughs that felt indecent since he couldn’t cover his mouth with his hands. “For someone carrying truth serum around I’d think they’d know you only need three stupid drops!” he complained. 

Malfoy ignored him through, and took a step back. “What’s your name?” he started.

“Harry James Potter,” he answered, clearing his throat some more, and although he desperately wanted to roll his eyes again he didn’t.

“When’s your birthday?” he asked. 

“July 31, 1980,” Harry said, and Malfoy’s face looked impassive. The way he had hoped, and failed, to achieve earlier. 

“Where were you born?” the Slytherin asked further, starting to walk slowly, lazily, back and forth in front of him. 

“Godric’s Hallow,” he answered. 

“How did we meet?” Malfoy continued. 

“Madam Malkin’s on my first trip to Diagon Alley where you were a right arsehole then too,” he tried not to spat up at the blond. 

Malfoy frowned for all of half a second, and if he hadn’t been watching closely he wouldn’t have caught it. “Did you go to Hogwarts?” he kept on still without missing a beat though.

“Yes,” he answered like it was the most obvious question in the world. Basically everyone went to Hogwarts in the UK except a rare few sent overseas. Those people were hardly heard of though because they didn’t interact much with the community itself. 

“What was your house?” Malfoy asked. 

“Gryffindor,” he answered again, and he started to wonder when the bloke was going to be satisfied. Surely how they met should have been enough to convince him. 

Malfoy’s eyebrows rose, and he actually stopped his pacing to look at him. “Who was the head of your house?” 

“Minevra McGonagall,” Harry said easily, letting his head fall sideways onto his shoulder. It was feeling semi good to go over things he was certain of.

“Who was the head of Slytherin house?” Malfoy asked, removing his hands from behind his back where they had previously been held as he walked. 

“Severus Snape,” he answered.

“Fascinating….” Malfoy said almost without thinking about it first. “What year did you graduate?” 

Harry’s head popped up realizing something was wrong. Both with the blond’s response to his answer, and for the first time the truth serum actually twisted his tongue. “1999,” it forced out of him, making his eyes widen. Truth serum didn’t affect him so effortlessly. 

“Why did you graduate in 1999?” the blond asked right away visibly confused. 

Feeling more of a tug on his tongue he bit his cheeks in resistance. Both trying to prevent an answer while trying to find his own for why he was being forced to answer in the first place. There were only two options. Either a whole vial had a much stronger affect or he didn’t have the resistance he thought since he always told the truth without needing the potion to do anything. 

“Why. Did you graduate Hogwarts. In 1999?” Malfoy repeated slower. 

Harry twisted his neck with his face muscles tight. Holding his breath desperately trying to prevent the inevitable. This was where he could possibly screw up the timeline if he said anything. If he hadn’t already from his wrong answers. Hermione would be able to tell him if it would. He tried to channel the witch, and recall anything she had ever told him on the subject. It became impossible as his the pain in his cheeks and lungs became to much to think past

Unable to hold it anymore without passing out he caved. “The war,” he breathed out. Taking a deep breath of fresh air he was filled with pure relief. The rush of oxygen through his blood caused his eyes too close happily “Sweet Merlin…” he exhaled heavily before taking another deep breath.

“War?” Malfoy repeated, and the Slytherin’s voice caused his eyes to fly open remembering the situation through the high of simply breathing. 

“That’s what I said, isn't it?” he snapped at him for having lost control over the potion.

“What was the war about?” the blond asked, now seeming truly intrigued. 

Harry shook his head in protest repeatedly. He wasn’t going to answer that. The potion on the other hand disagreed yet again. Having not gained enough oxygen back he felt closer to passing out than before holding the answer back. While passing out with some weird Malfoy standing before him sounded like a bad idea, the idea of screwing up his life further with so many unknown consequences that could cost even more people their lives sounded worse. 

Then Malfoy had a look of dawning on his face. “What is my name?” he asked quickly. 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Harry exhaled happily for the change to an easy question, but Malfoy wrinkled his nose for some reason. 

“What?” he asked as he worked on regaining a normal breathing pattern since the bloke wasn’t trying to pry into his life anymore. 

“Alright,” Malfoy nodded slowly, taking to pacing the entire room instead of just in front of him. His behaviour turned curious.

Harry watched as the git tapped a long finger against his chin. Dragging his wand across the walls, and just studying the room in an odd manner. Honestly it made him uncomfortable, and he wondered if Malfoy was the one losing his marbles. He even left him alone for a few minutes venturing into other rooms like he knew the place, and to walk outside before coming back. Poking and prodding at things with his wand at random, before running it and his hands down himself. Still just as tall and lean as he knew him.

Seeming satisfied with whatever he was doing the blond walked back to the couch, and sat down. Picking up his bag and digging through it up all the way up to his shoulder at times. Harry could hear the clink and clank, occasional thud….but still the bloke never withdrew anything. There were only a few times he had stopped to look into the back for more than ten seconds, until finally he just stopped. 

“So,” Malfoy spoke again, tightening the bag’s opening with the silver rope, after he removed his arm to stow it away in his pocket once more. “I assume part of your insufferable stubbornness would come from a worry of time travel, yes?” 

“Yes,” he answered instantly, and when the word left his mouth he cursed at himself for still being under the influence of the bloody potion. “Fucking…”

“I do not think there is any need to fear time travel,” Malfoy interrupted. 

“How do you know that?” Harry asked him, feeling aggravated. 

“I have my ways,” he said simply. “Although it might provide you a slight comfort to think it through. If this were time travel that means you would have had to have gone back at least twelve years….” 

“Twenty five,” Harry corrected, annoyed considering it all was truly a right mess now. As if it hadn’t already been before. Might as well be accurate. 

Malfoy pursed his lips. “Twenty five then,” he corrected himself. “Even such advanced time travel, should it even exist, you wouldn’t be able to get your hands on. Let alone the general population knowing about it at all. Then there is the fact should you have achieved such a task you wouldn’t have any memory of those things now. Your previous self would be gone. Erased with the other timeline.”

Harry blinked at the blond a few times. It made sense if he allowed himself to think deeper on the subject. That would be true wouldn’t it? Having no memory? He and Hermoine though….they had kept their memories when….

A horrible surge of worry and panic washed over him again, making him squirm in the ropes. Far too vividly remembering his trip with Hermione third on saving Sirius. Sirius who he had been talking to him. Standing by him. Yesterday. They remembered. He remembered. It felt like he was starting to be strangled to death by the stupid things

“What is the last thing you remember not feeling confused?” Malfoy asked him distantly, and it felt far away enough though he was disappearing again. 

“I don’t fucking know! Merlin I don’t know!” Harry said, or at least thought he said it aloud anyway. “I was just at Hermione and Ron’s. Just trying to read some bloody book, and then it basically eats me alive! Then I’m at my dead godfathers house with my dead parents and a bloody fucking sister. I have a house elf. I’m living here. Then you come hurtling into my house apparently mates or some bullshit! I don’t fucking know what is happening Malfoy fuck! Piss off!” 

Harry banged the back of his head on the wall a little too passionately and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to clear everything out. All the memories. It was all too much. Not often did simply thinking about them on his own feel like too much unless it happened after a nightmare. 

“Interesting….” the blond said, and Harry could hear his footsteps getting closer. “Merlin’s beard mate, would you fucking stop that?” 

That only caused him to hit his head harder. Malfoy called him his bloody mate. Malfoy didn’t do that. He couldn’t possibly do that. 

“Is Harry better?” Malfoy asked far too closely. 

“No!” he shouted, then the wall was randomly soft when he went to hit his head again, causing him to stop and rest on it. Opening his eyes all he could do was look at the bloke. He was torn between being thankful, and mad for his charming the wall. 

“Okay, okay fine. Would you prefer Potter given your predicament?” the blond asked him more caringly. 

“I’d prefer you piss off,” he said pleadingly resting his now sore head. He could really only focus on his growing headache instead of overwhelming thoughts. That was a plus as the memories started to fade a little. Somehow he was going to have to find that anxiety potion he use to take. 

Malfoy shook his head in disagreement. “I’m afraid that won’t be happening. Of course I’m very unaware of our...clearly unpleasant relationship, or whatever I do in your let’s call it…” he seemed to be debating terms as he gestured around them. “...universe. Yes, let's go with universe. Here I am an unspeakable though.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose. Unspeakables could do, well, the unspeakable. It meant the bloke could figure out what was going on time travel or not. A small amount of hope surged through him in that moment. 

“That’s what I thought,” the Slytherin said knowingly. “Do you still want me to piss off?” 

Harry glared at him for the smug tone. “No.” 

Malfoy smirked. “Is everything you’ve said here today the truth?” 

“Yes,” he answered, trying to calm himself even more. 

“Are you going to do anyone harm?” the Slytherin asked. 

“No!” Harry said passionately, feeling offended. “Of course not! I’m a bloody auror!” 

Malfoy shook his head, but to his surprise released the ropes with a flick of his wand. “You were an auror,” he corrected. 

Harry felt himself relax a little from freedom, but his heart ached a little also. Were? Was? Being an auror was all he knew. All he had never done. He was good at it. Of course he was still an auror.

“Well….Potter….” Mafloy said, tucking away his wand. “Try not to go far. I have business to attend to now.”

“Wait where are you going? I said I didn’t want you to leave,” Harry asked, suddenly feeling a sense of loneliness, and further worry as the blond walked away from him towards the fireplace. He knew things. Although he didn’t care for him he was also a face that wasn’t unknown or dead to him. He needed something familiar. Even if it was Malfoy. 

The Slytherin stopped and turned around to face him, again studying him. “To work. I recommend you get ready to do the same tomorrow. Regardless of your…..predicament….you are Harry. It’s better not to draw unwanted attention to yourself while I study the potential nature, and or cause of such a circumstance. It’s crucial you just go about as normal.”

“What the bloody hell is normal? I mean my parents are alive, I have siblings, I have a bloody house elf…..” he started to ramble off. “What’s normal?” 

Malfoy tilted his head. “I think that is everyone’s question everywhere in all honesty. However normal in this situation is I would just recommend going to work and being….you. I’m sure Milly can fill you in on the details of what you don’t know. I’ll be in contact soon, and if you need me you can send Nova.” 

The blond stepped back into the floo, looking him up and down one last time before tossing the powder down into the hearth. As he disappeared into the green flames Harry sat down on his calves from where he had risen to his knees. He hated the amount of disappointment he felt seeing the git go. 

“Is Master Potter ready to learn now?” Milly asked, suddenly popping up in front of him with a scolding look.


	4. What's Normal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had trouble with the last half of this chapter. Hopefully it worked out well enough though! Fingers crossed....Harry's still adjusting, but trying to make progress!

Harry plucked at some of the green grass he was sitting on. He had already walked up, and down the bank of the river long enough to calm his mind. Something he had done so many times before. This time though was different. Gratefully it was one of the things that hadn’t changed making him feel a whole new appreciation for it. Although the more he thought about it with everything he was learning it seemed logical that the muggle world, and most of nature, particularly muggle frequented land, was unaffected by his situation. 

The river Thames outside Oxford was just as he knew it. He was usually alone, and could enjoy the quiet. Plus it actually wasn’t all that far from London. An easy apparate when compared with trying to make a jump all the way up to Scotland just for a bit of time to himself. 

It made him feel more at home than his new home did, and he frequented it often when he needed to get away. Hermione had suggested the location not long after the war specifically for the sound and visual of steady ever running water. Just as life was. Ever flowing regardless of what was in its path. She thought it would soothe him, and muggles while close by, didn’t visit it as frequently as other locations like the horribly crowded Hyde’s Park. The Thames was a hidden gem kept quiet among the local university students. 

The witch herself never made time to visit it anymore, apparently having once appreciated it’s beauty. He figured she had only come originally because she had enjoyed chatting with the random muggle. She wasn’t really an outdoor kind of person after all. There was no doubt she didn’t sit about long enough to enjoy the sight in the soothing manner he did. 

He had needed to get away, and there was no better place in his mind. Milly was providing him with a complete whirlwind of new information. Information that on a low level was freaking him out. It was all just so unbelievable to him. Sure he could get behind him having a house elf if his dad and Sirius were alive. They were both from wealthy pureblood families, and surely had them growing up. Some of the other stuff though? Harry tore at the grass a little harder trying to accept it. 

At least the talk with Malfoy, while annoying and frustrating during, had left him feeling a little better. Mostly because it had finally told him he wasn’t going completely mad, and there was definitely something magical occurring. Especially with Milly seeming to have already known he was different, and not exactly the same person as before. 

Briefly he wondered if the little thing was as stern with the other him, which is what they had taken to calling what he was before, as she was with him now. It had all explained her unusual behavior towards him, for the most part anyways. “Elves know magic wizards do not,” she had told him simply, and he had chosen not to ask her to elaborate when memories of Dobby came forward. Maybe he would later. 

Thankfully hadn’t felt the dreadful urge of any panic attack or episode coming on with all the information. That, he considered an improvement even though it had only been a day and a half of learning. Perhaps he was getting semi-adjusted or used to the concept of whatever this unknown abnormality was. There didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it so far, and Malfoy hadn’t gotten back in touch with him yet. 

Part of him dreaded when Malfoy would because the longer he thought on it the more worried he became. Malfoy was Malfoy no matter what, and Unspeakables were Unspeakables. They thrived on the unknown. The mystery. He figured he should consider himself lucky that they hadn’t taken him in and kept him as a lab rat when he was a baby. Trying to study why one single person for the first time ever, a baby no less, had survived the killing curse from the darkest wizard. 

He just hadn’t been able to take it anymore, and he wasn’t sure why Malfoy had possibly thought he would be able to go to work the next day. Pick right on up in a life he didn’t know. The second the blond git had left Milly had begun filling him in on what was his so called normal life. His past and present. It was weird, and while he tried to counter her arguments when things were different she said something along the lines of “Not Master Potter here.” 

There wasn’t a whole whole lot of a difference in himself he concluded. Well there was, but nothing that didn’t seem for the better. Not having spent his life defeating Voldemort, loaded with both mental and physical scars, and people he knew being alive and well was definitely better. 

Being told he was a broom designer hadn’t actually been that bad either. The idea actually sounded exciting. Wonderful even, and nothing he had ever once considered. It almost beat the idea of being an auror. Something he had mostly done because he was advanced in defensive magic, and there was an overwhelming urge to protect people. Basically it felt like his duty, and that he owed it to everyone. 

Now being told he modeled the bloody brooms was a whole other story. One that he had laughed at due to the sheer absurdity, which earned him a scolding from the house elf making him realize she wasn’t trying to lighten the mood. Instead she did the opposite. 

Much to his upcoming distress, she had summoned a magazine. One that had him modeling what looked like some heavily upgraded cleansweep on the front confidently with no bloody shirt on, and low hanging denims. The way he looked at the camera with the same untamed hair, green eyes, and glasses he knew told him he was enjoying himself. Even before he winked at the camera in a way that reminded him of George. 

Even with the evidence in front of him, the idea of willingly putting himself out on the cover of a magazine half undressed for everyone to ogle was hard to process. Malfoy had actually thought he would be going into his work the next day to do that? He was the one apparently off his rocker. According to the bloody house elf he wasn’t famous in this so-called universe for nearing death. No. He was low level famous for broom designing, and strutting about without his clothes off for the public. 

Much to Milly’s protests he waved her off unwilling to sit for more. At least she had been understanding enough to owl in his absence for a few days, perhaps realizing this was going to take more than twenty four hours to get his head around. He had to hand it to her for genuinely beginning to care more on a personal level. Why the change in her personality was occurring he didn’t know though.

Harry sighed defeatedly, laying back onto the ground and staring up into the blue sky. There was no denying the land around his cottage here was beautiful, no matter how unfamiliar it was. It was open, clear, and bright. However the area around the Thames provided comfort his yard couldn’t. He didn’t know what else to do or where to go, and frankly he was growing nervous about what else there was to know. 

Learning Fred was alive, that he and George were some of his closest friends, was one that had started the triggering feeling of nerves. It had rocked him to the point of tears. Tears of happiness and simmering anger at the potential of being tricked over such a cruel topic. Or there was the possibility it was even worse. That it was all really real, and the bloke would be taken from him once more as things returned to the normal he knew. Even though his death had been many years ago, nothing had been able to fill his absence in any of the Weasley’s lives, or his own. Only Hermione had taken it in accepting stride. 

Being told he was in Slytherin house hadn’t bothered him all that much, especially in comparison to everything else. Probably because the sorting hat had wanted to put him there in the first place. He had mostly thought that had been because part of Tom Riddle’s soul was inside him, but apparently it wasn’t. Why he was placed there, here, he wasn’t all that sure. It was something he had never really mulled over since second year, and that had been mostly just generic curiosity. Not actually analyzing his developing personality. 

Self preservation was probably the farthest from his mind. He almost always threw himself before others, figuratively and literally, even when it meant the possibility of his own life. Charging in, rushing to the defense without thought but with full confidence that it was the right thing to do? That was typical Gryffindor behavior.

Slytherin’s seemed to always want to prove themselves too. Which he admitted was something he did as well. Did that count as ambition? How else was he supposed to prove he was more than the Chosen One? That wasn’t what he wanted to be known for in life. He wanted to be known for more. 

Watching the white fluffy clouds move slowly Harry tried to think harder about what he knew of Slytherins. They didn’t trust easily as far as he knew. Something he was familiar with. He hardly trusted anyone outside of Hermione and Ron on a truly personal level. To him though he had thought that to be due more to circumstance.

Cunning. Deceit. It didn’t take long at all to recognize how much he did relate to that trait. He was able to hide and brush things up with ease. Years of being abused by the Dursleys, and basically no one knowing it proved as such on a very basic level. Even if he wasn’t good at coming up with a story on spot to cover his arse, still he was pretty gifted at getting himself out of whatever situation he was in. 

Harry smiled at the fond memories of sneaking around the castle without getting in trouble. The Marauders Map, and his invisibility cloak aiding in his ability to move around undetected most of the time. Escaping whatever mischief he or someone else caused. Pulling one over Filch all the time, and occasionally Peeves. 

His smile faded as memories in the common room with his friends popped up. The twins were his friends here, but his heart had broken when Milly knew nothing of Ron, Hermione, or even Neville. In a desperate effort to avoid the idea he wasn’t friends with them, or something bad may have happened to them, he had asked about his family that was clearly alive. 

Iris Dorean was apparently the name of the little sister he had met. Kind of anyways, if you counted that first encounter in a constant state of numbed shock meeting. Younger by four years, and the Gryffindor he wasn’t. Then there was the little brother they had spoken of somewhere off in the distance of his mind, or maybe it had just been the picture he had seen, that was named Luke Charlus. Eight years younger than him, and in his final year at Hogwarts. Unexpectedly a Ravenclaw. 

Apparently he had a good enough relationship with them both which was both hard, and not hard to imagine. Especially when the closest thing he had had to a sibling was Dudley. Someone which Milly also had had no information on. Not that he cared all that much, but still he found himself curious of how things might be different. 

So much was different, and it was obviously because of him. What he had done he still didn’t exactly know past touching that stupid book. Hermione was going to kill him for it when she found out. If she found out, that was. 

An ache of longing hit him. He needed someone he knew, which apparently wasn’t going to be Hermione or Ron at the moment. He needed someone to help figure it all out without fear of becoming some caged Unspeakable project. Someone that didn’t have the history he and Malfoy shared, that despite their supposed best mate status, he couldn’t shake. Especially on such a life altering topic that even he himself was still working to believe was real. 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The act of simply knocking on the door brought him a sense of normality. Something he knew he wouldn’t have gotten should he have chosen to take the floo. It didn’t feel right to just step out into Sirius’s house. Godfather or not, his presence was still unsettling, and he only hoped he had prepared himself enough to handle the conversation at hand. 

It felt like he didn’t know him, and in a way he didn’t. This Sirius wasn’t the same. He hadn’t been to Azkaban. He was apparently according to Milly, married to Remus. They were all a loving, intertwined family. Something he had always dreamed of. Plus there was also the fact he was also ten years older than when he had last seen him, if you didn’t count that brief moment in the Forbidden Forest. 

When the door started to open Harry took a deep breath, and readied himself to see his godfather's familiar face again. Clean, healthy, and happy. Which is exactly what it was when he stood before him again. Shoulder length hair well kept, a relaxed cheerful look about him, and in lounge clothes. Understandable considering it was evening, and was actually a good thing since it indicated he hadn’t planned to leave the house any time soon. 

“Harry!” Sirius smiled, stepping aside to let him in. “What are you up to?” 

Harry smiled in return, albeit weakly, flinching despite himself when the door closed behind him. “Can I talk to you?” he asked, and Sirius gave him the look that told him it was a stupid question. “I mean just between….us. I…” 

“What did you do this time?” his godfather sighed, turning around and heading for what looked to be a cup of tea sitting on the kitchen table. He seemed to be preparing for the worst. 

“This time?” Harry asked furrowing his brows.

“Hey,” Sirius said, putting the cup down after a sip, and raising his hands. “I’m all good with you running around naked on the mainland, but keep it to the beach yea? That was ridiculous trying to get that..”.

“No! No,” Harry interrupted quickly. “No….uh definitely...definitely not that.” he said reassuringly. The idea of running around some foreign country naked was worse than the modeling. However he was starting to put nothing past his former self here. Apparently he was bold with a hint towards no shame. 

“Okay then?” his godfather said taking a seat, and resting back against his chair. 

“Can you….keep an open mind?” Harry asked, slowly making his way to join him at the table. “Trust that I’ve already talked to an Unspeakable at the Ministry?” 

Sirius looked at him confused. “Draco’s your best mate. Pretty sure you speak to an Unspeakable a lot there Bambi,” he said simply.

“Why do you all call me Bambi?” he asked randomly on reflex, sitting down. 

“Are you still not feeling well?” Sirius asked him, frowning, and not answering the question. “If Milly’s work isn’t doing the trick maybe we should make a trip to St.Mungo’s?” 

Harry shook his head again feeling a little frustrated. “No. I feel fine. Mostly anyways…” he trailed off into a mutter. 

“So what’s wrong?” Sirius asked. 

“Open mind yea?” Harry said again, raising his eyebrows hopefully. 

“Just tell me,” Sirius said in a way that reminded him of the Sirius he knew.

“Malf….Draco, tells me this isn’t time travel,” he started slowly. “...and I think I believe him, but I’m confused though. This isn’t magic I’ve ever even heard of. Milly apparently knows some….” 

“Wait, wait,wait,” Sirius said, waving his hand to halt him. “What’s time travel?” 

“Me,” he said honestly, not wanting to hold anything back between them.

“You?” Sirius said like he had misunderstood him, taking on a stern look of a parent. “You know better than to meddle with time travel Harry.”

Harry looked away from his firm grey eyes, and around the same area he had appeared in only two days ago sadly. He wanted to enjoy it, but it still didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like he should enjoy it. 

“This,” he said defeatedly, refusing to look back at the man, and instead focused on the trees outside the kitchen door. “This isn’t what I know. It’s not my world. Mal…” Harry rolled his eyes at himself wondering how to break the habit of referring to the Slytherin by his last name all the time. 

“Draco says to call it a universe,” he told him. “He is doing some Unspeakable research I guess? I haven’t heard from him since yesterday. I don’t know when he is going to contact me, or what he will do when he does. Stupid git’s an arsehole in every universe I’m sure,” he muttered the last bit. “...and I don’t put anything past this Malfoy either. I don’t want to be some research project for the Ministry, Sirius. I can’t do it,” Harry said feeling the worry from earlier seep back in. “I won’t. I won’t.” 

Harry felt his breathing starting to pick up imagining the Department of Mysteries where Malfoy was currently doing who knew what, but he tried to swallow it down. He didn’t fear the Ministry in general, or it’s corruption anymore. Hell he worked for the Ministry. 

The Department of Mysteries though? He avoided that level of the building at all cost. Some of his worst memories were there. What they kept there for observation, and study no one knew of, but he knew enough from infiltrating it. Death itself. Bloody brains with tentacles in a tank for Merlin’s sake. Where the man before him died. Where Ron almost died. 

“I know what they keep there,” Harry said, and it came out as more of a whisper with his skin growing cold. “I know. I know, and I can’t. No. No no no no no,” he repeated to himself starting to rock back and forth a little feeling a weight settling on his chest. “No. Don’t Sirius. You can’t let them. Please don’t.”

“Hey hey hey it’s okay,” Sirius’s voice came into his ear far too close causing him to naturally lean away at the proximity, apparently having hurrying around to his side of the table. “You aren’t going to become some Unspeakable project. Why on earth would you think that? You’re not.” 

“Because I don’t know this!” Harry said loudly gesturing around the room in a panic. “I’m another abnormality. Again! This time without protection. Without Dumbledore to keep them away. This time no one fears me. I didn’t brag or use the title often, but people knew not to mess with me. They don't here. I’m not the same!”

“Okay Harry this one is a little too extreme.” Sirius started pulling back away a little, clearly not believing the severity of the situation. “Did those bloody twins get you …” 

“You’re dead Sirius!” he interrupted him. “You’re dead. Remus is dead. My parents are dead. I don’t have a sister or some bloody brother. I’m a Gryffindor. I grew up in a cupboard with my mum’s sister using me as a bloody house elf until Hagrid took me to Hogwarts. Then I spent the next seven years of my life fighting Voldemort. I have scars,” he said tugging at the tightening collar of his shirt actually hoping to see the locket burn, which of course he didn’t. “….but I...I don’t here. Everything is different Sirius, and I don’t….I don’t……” 

Harry exhaled heavily feeling dizzy once more, taking deep breaths over and over again. Still his shirt felt like it was going to cut off the circulation to his head. This had to stop happening, but nothing he knew how to ground him was here. He didn’t have his friends to think about. The topic of them only stressed him more knowing they weren’t the same either. He closed his eyes, and tried counting absolutely nothing in particular to try just to empty his mind. 

After a minute, and forty three numbers later, the grip he had on the sides of his chair relaxed. His shoulders along with them. He licked his lips that had gone dry, as his breathing calmed. Somehow he managed to get his hand into hair, and shake his head. Ruffling it like always, grounding himself with the reassuring feeling of habit before flickering his eyes open. 

Harry was surprised to see Sirius back across the table from, and briefly he wondered if he had imagined him next to him. He was standing though which indicated otherwise. A firm stance with a more narrowed expression than the one Malfoy had worn when he first sensed something was off. Oh Merlin, if his own godfather bound him…..

“Do you know my job?” Sirius asked through the uncomfortable silence, for the first time sounding formal. 

The man hadn’t gotten to the point of a full blown job due to their age from what he knew. The fact he was helping his parents dodge Voldemort along with himself probably dodging his family probably had a lot to do with that. He was in the Order though, Neville’s parents had been… 

“An auror?” he guessed. 

Sirius nodded his head slowly, and placed his hands on the table. “Still you came to me?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious considering his eyebrows raised. 

“Of course I did,” he said, almost hurt his own godfather didn’t think he wouldn come to him for something so important. “You’re the only one I trust. The only one I know, or at least more than anyone else. Sure I know Malfoy, but not Draco. I know of mum and dad, but not who they are. I know Remus, but we weren’t really close. Frankly I’ve been too nervous, and caught up to even think about reaching out to my friends. Not that I even know where to find them.” 

Sirius didn’t say anything in response to him, and only studied him as if he wanted to believe him, but needed a reason. Not that he could fault him for that. He hurried trying to find something that they both would know answers too. That would tell him he was, and wasn’t the same even though it still sounded confusing in his head. 

“I live in Grimmauld Place,” Harry said the second the thought came to mind. 

Sirius’s nostrils flared instantly, and his eyes narrowed even more dangerously than before “You do not,” he said tightly as if offended. 

Harry nodded his head eagerly at having hit a spot, apparently the other him wouldn’t have. “I do….or well did until this place. You left it to me in your will.” 

“You have never been to Grimmauld,” his godfather said angrily. “None of the children have. I would never allow you into that dingy darkness!” 

“Yes you did,” Harry said, trying to convince him. “You leant it to Dumbledore for headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and then when you died you left it, and everything to me. Your vault and all.” 

Sirius shook his head, his hair swaying back and forth. “Fine. Fine. If you’re Harry, if you lived there, tell me about it,” he countered confidently, clearly believing there was no possible way he would know anything. 

“Claremont Square between numbers 11 and 13,” Harry told him, feeling a spike of hope. “You enter the hallway. The sitting room is down to the left, and the kitchen is directly behind it. At the end of the hall is a formal dining room. There are disgusting house elf heads on the banister of the stairs. You had your room covered in Gryffindor stuff to piss off your mum. Which by the way, I was never able to get that bloody portrait of her off the wall,” he added in a moment of annoyance remembering how many times he tried to get the stupid thing off. 

“Umm…Kreacher was a right prick to me also before I finally won him over near the end of the war,” he continued. “He was to you as well, and his loyalty truly lay with your brother. Maybe he isn't in a right foul mood constantly here…” Harry thought aloud trying to imagine a happier Kreacher than the one he knew. That was something he wasn’t sure was possible no matter where he was. 

Rubbing his face he pictured what he knew, the list could go on considering he lived there, but considering what all he had thrown out, and changed it would take a little more thought. He looked up to gauge Sirius’s reaction to the dump of information off hand, and maybe to spark a few more memories. However he was completely taken aback to see tears welling up in his godfather's softened grey eyes when he met them.

“I would never ever let you inside there,” Sirius insisted again as one spilled down his cheek. 

Harry tried to shrug, and force a sympathetic smile to make him feel better. “We had to make the most of a bad situation…..” 

Sirius suddenly started blinking rapidly probably trying to clear away tears. “What happened then? What happened to your mum? Dad? Me? Remus?” he started rambling off suddenly eager, almost fearful for more information.

The onslaught of painful questions had him hesitant, as Sirius slid back into the chair across from him. “You all died,” he answered quietly. “Mum and dad when I was a baby, you when I was in fifth year, and Remus died in the battle.” 

“The battle?” Sirius repeated. “You said you grew up with Lily’s sister? Why didn’t…”

“Sirius! Little help here!” the sound of Remus’s voice came out of nowhere, and Harry looked around. He had thought they were alone. 

His godfather growled leaning forward tilting his head towards the back rooms. “Not now! I’m…” 

“If I drop this bloody thing it’s on you!” Remus called back loudly, and Sirius winced. 

“Okay... just...just stay right here. Right here,” Sirius told him, clearly torn on leaving the way he used his hands telling him to emphasize the message as he stood.

Harry actually smiled the way his godfather took off around the table quickly, and disappeared. A huge blanket of warm comfort settled over him the way the man had looked at him. He believed him, and suddenly it felt like everything was going to be okay. It felt so much better than bloody Malfoy’s cold formal approach to him. Plus Sirius knew more than Malfoy ever could. They were family after all. 

“Not happening Sirius. No,” Remus said appearing with him, shaking his head, and arms. He was walking into the room with a set look wearing a simple brown t-shirt, and black shorts.

“Remus we need to talk about this first. We can’t just go barging in with this…” Sirius was trying to say following beside him, but the other man ignored him. “He is…”

“Let’s go,” Remus said, coming up by the table and looking down at him. 

“What?” Harry asked, confused looking back and forth between the two men. 

“Let’s go,” Remus repeated, grabbing his arm, and pulling him up. It wasn’t hard or cruel, but it was determined saying he wasn’t taking no for an answer as he walked them to the floo. 

“Where are we going?” he asked suppressing his nerves, looking back at Sirius that was at least appearing to come along even though he was threading his fingers back through his hair. 

“We are going to your mum and dad’s young man. This is serious Harry!” Remus said pointedly. 

Harry turned around as much as he could to his godfather, and gaped at him for telling anyone anything before they could come up with an idea or plan. “Sirius!”

**Author's Note:**

> I've created a group on facebook called Ron's Chessboard. 100% Ron centric and no bashing at all is allowed towards him! Feel free to join to share Ron fics, aesthetics and more!


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